


Titles Mean Nothing Without You

by Jordemme



Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: M/M, jordans marriage event, noncanon characters - Freeform, yirf ocs, you in rf meme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordemme/pseuds/Jordemme
Summary: When Jordan receives a letter from his home town, he decides to return to his childhood home to settle matters, but things aren't always so cut and dry as he faces a major obstacle, keeping him from returning home to his beloved.





	1. The Letter that Starts it All

      Jordan groaned in resentment as he ran a hand through his hair, looking at the ostentatiously gilded envelope sitting on his counter, seeming to taunt him with its very existence. The faded scorch mark on the counter reminds him of previous mistakes caused by him letting his negative emotions-- as well as his magic, run wild with a previous such missive. Rounded teeth worried at his lip as he frowned at the envelope, dreading its contents but acknowledging that just ignoring it would only lead to more trouble down the road in the long run. Shaking his head and coming to a decision he snatched up the envelope and tore it open a tad more aggressively than he could have done, eyes narrowed at the familiar yet unwelcome font as he scanned through the letter. Bile began to rise in his throat as his features tinged ashen at the contents.

_Heiress Rosalie V. Weaver,_

_This is a summons to return to the home of Lord Tybalt S. Weaver in regards to your current whereabouts, as well as the state of your inheritance. But more pressing matters must be discussed in person relating to your status, as well as the business of betrothal. Your straying from home does not make such things cease to exist, and it is of utmost importance that you return post-haste. We have much to discuss._

_Lady Galatea A. Weaver_

 

      Jordan’s fists clenched as he leaned against the counter, before slowly sinking to the kitchen floor, letter crumpling beyond recognition as he takes shallow breaths, anger warring with anxiety for dominance over his mind before he swore and chucked the balled up paper across the room. Dragging a hand across his face, the runaway noble quickly found himself unable to think of any real way to deal with this problem while staying happily in Selphia. After a few moments of deep breathing and composing himself, Jordan hauled himself to his feet, and for the briefest of moments considered running away again. Just disappear into the night once more with no one the wiser, travel without ever having a place to call home… or anyone he could trust. Quickly a flush of shame and humiliation washed over him as he berated himself for even considering for a second to just turn tail and run, abandoning everyone he knew and loved-- just to avoid his problems like a coward. The idea that the thought even crossed his mind once more had him feeling nausea rise up and clutch at his throat with sickly hot fingers. Bae, Oni, Seraph.... He couldn’t ever turn his back on them. Straightening, he found some resolve in that. He had already vanished on his cousin once, there was no way he could put his family through that a second time.

      Groaning in frustration he began to grab belongings, some changes of clothes, his weapon, and and shove them into a bag. The sooner he could get this whole mess over and done with, the sooner he could come home, maybe even go on a date with Seraph, something pleasant to look forward to. Checking and then double checking to make sure not a single thing was forgotten, he shouldered the bag, deciding to leave a note on his door to let any visitors know he was out.

 

 _‘_ _Dealing with family matters, will be back as soon as possible.’ -Jordan_

 

      Satisfied with that he locked up behind him. Bae had the spare key so if he needed a place to crash there was no worry about him being locked out. Deciding to go check in at Masu’s work so that he wouldn’t have just bailed on her and Pokeri and left. The familiar ring of the store bell caused his good friend to look up from behind the counter. Offering a wave, Jordan smiled, though it was a bit strained. “Heya Masu, I… have some stuff i gotta go sort out and I dunno how long I’ll be gone for. Hopefully just a day or two? But no need to worry, I’m sure it’ll be soon.” His smile twitched slightly. He really hoped it would be soon.

      “Hey, are you feeling alright? You look... Gray.” Masu’s brow furrowed with concern as she obviously didn’t buy his cheerful facade, but he waved it away, slapping on some more cheerfulness. He certainly did not feel alright, but no sense in worrying others with his own personal problems.

      “Pshhh! It’s fine, it’s fine! I’m still perfectly bright eyed and bushy tailed. But-- I really should head out, don’t want to miss the airship and end up late. I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll even bring back souvenirs, hows that sound?” With one more bright smile, he waved and left the shop, expression quickly draining in energy for a moment to reveal how ‘not okay’ he truly was feeling. Shaking his head he, decided better for the time being to just take his mind off it.

      For a moment he considered going to the hotel and telling Seraph everything, letting someone else know the stress he was feeling at the moment. But the idea of dragging someone else down with him made him sigh and decide otherwise. Instead, he approached Lin Fa and left a note with her, something to at least explain his sudden disappearance. After hesitating for a good few minutes, he caved and also added the address-- just in case he took longer than expected and they wanted to send him a letter.

_I’ll be gone for a few days to deal with some family troubles, but I’ll definitely be back before you know it, and maybe then we can go on another date together! If you want to, this time you can choose where we go, okay? I love you._

_-Jordan_

      Soon the airship would be departing after all. The flight to his hometown would be roughly five hours and he could use that time to think of a solution. As he carried on to the airship docks the contents of the letter repeated mockingly in his thoughts. ‘Betrothed’, it had said. A political betrothal likely only for Weaver to try once more to wrap the noose around his neck. A chance to wring out whatever value that can be wrought from him one last time before discarding him to be used by some other money and power-hungry group of vultures. He did not look forward to it one bit. Purchasing his ticket from the captain he settled down near the railing, content to spend his flight watching the clouds roll by. “Time to get this over with.”


	2. Tied Hands

      The hustle and bustle of the ship as it prepared to dock roused the boy from a sleep he had been unaware he’d fallen into. Pawing sleep away from his eyes, Jordan looked out at the rapidly approaching airship port of the city of Nerria-- still unchanging in its familiarity, and yet…  
He slid a hand over his eyes as he remembered the best Nerria ever looked to him was when he was putting it behind him. He greatly looked forward to leaving this prison masquerading as a beautiful city with aim to rival the Capital itself in it’s own splendor and nobility. As the ship slowed to a halt and began to lower towards the ground, Jordan cast one more look around at his surroundings, catching a glimpse at that old mansion that seemed to look down on the rest of the surrounding buildings with such a holier than thou attitude. Sighing, Jordan stood, waiting towards the end of the line of departing passengers. A small part of him wondered if he could possibly turn around now-- as if he hadn’t already made it too far to give up he reminded himself curtly.

      ‘I’m here to solve this problem, I can return home when I’ve finished.’ He shouldered his bag and took off at a brisk pace, through the streets and past different shops and vendors, people vying for attention to their wares. Children playing together in the street, getting underfoot of passerby without a care, People of all walks of life, human or otherwise, all with somewhere to be. A bit crowded towards the docks, this so-called business district was far from what he was brought up with, and a part of him twinged with bitter resentment at what could have been, as well as the reality of how things turned out in the long run. Sighing and shaking his head, he picked up the pace. It was starting to feel too crowded, and the feeling of eyes on him made his skin crawl. Actively trying not to acknowledge how the enclosed space so far from his home quickly began to feel like a trap, its maw closing around him, he hurried his way through the street before an abrupt collision made him stumble. “S-Sorry--.” He looked up at the lady in a servant’s uniform who had dropped the contents of her basket. “Ma’am I am so sorry.” He quickly knelt down, gathering the dropped belongings and depositing them safely back in her possession.

      “Oh young man, there’s no need for all that…” As her eyes met Jordan’s they grew wide with shock and recognition. “L-Lady Rosalie?!” Her voice shook and Jordan felt himself quickly turn an unpleasant shade of gray at being recognized by anyone. Stepping back quickly, his eyes darted for any sort of exit but the passerby were starting to gawk. A spectacle was being made and he wanted out.

      “Uhm… Ma’am you must have me mistaken for someone else.” He bit his lip as the maid furiously shook her head, hands clasping at his own. Her eyes welled with tears of relief and Jordan bit his lip, unable to find any means of escape now that she was holding on to him. He cursed his lack of foresight-- He had been so careless, walking through his place of birth without the idea that anyone would recognize him. He had the equivalent of a massive target on his back and this is where it led him.

      “My lady! Where have you been for these past years-- we had assumed the worst!” The woman had pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, before peering closer at him and looking him over, poking at his clothes. “My lady, where is it you’ve been all this time, Why is it that you’ve disappeared for so long only to choose now to show up. Myself and the other servants were quite worried, We were told to keep our eyes down and to ourselves. The lord Weaver forbade us from seeking you out or asking such questions.” She seemed to fear the repercussions of what may have happened were she to disobey, and Jordan for once could not blame them for wishing to hold their jobs. He detached himself from the woman’s grasp, instead giving her a pat on the shoulder, before turning and heading towards the direction of the mansion.

      “I left of my own free will, ma’am, I had enough of abuse, of being used only for my abilities and cast aside. And ma’am please, I hate being called by that name. I go by Jordan nowadays and the only reason I’m here is to put an end to this problem once and for all. I am very happy and I refuse to be given as some trophy to anyone, thanks.” His lip curled at the thought, and he looked once more to the older woman to see if she had followed. The woman appeared thoughtful and he nodded. “I have a beloved at home that I am returning to as soon as possible. I just need to figure out a solution… somehow.” At that they walked in silence.

      The streets had seemed to quiet as dusk painted everything with a blue tone. They made their way much easier now, Jordan insisting on carrying the basket for the woman as they approached the gates to the mansion. Rather than allowing her to make a fuss, he was adamant they both enter using the servants entrance. He was tired and already he began to feel some stress form a pressure that situated itself behind his eyes. Entering the mansion through the kitchens and being surrounded once more by familiar sounds and smells from a time he had long forgotten was not helping any, either. He pasted a smile on his face as he tried to calm the servants, letting them know that, yes it was indeed him, back from the dead-- or so they thought at first. A heartfelt reunion that his heart just plain wasn’t in. He hadn’t thought of the possibility anyone gave a thought towards him beyond how much money he could make them, and here he was proven wrong as he sat down to speak with the head of servants and anyone else clustered around to hear. The dinner momentarily forgotten as everyone wanted to know what had taken place.

      To the dismay and shame of the servants, he told them the whole truth behind his situation with Weaver, his neglect and abuse, even going so far as to remove one of the bandages he wore and showing one of his older scars. “To be honest, I hate his guts. He’ll never be my father and he’s a self-centered greedy asshole who I’d gladly punch in the face a thousand more times than live with ever again. I’m here to decline any betrothals, and leave.” As the crowd murmured their hesitation, a cool voice cut through the din.

      “I do believe talking that way about your father could be considered treason, young lady.” The crowd scattered-- returning to their tasks as the lady of the house approached, heels clacking against the stone. Looking Jordan over with steely eyes. “And here I thought you had more brains in that head of yours, would you at least do us both the honor of feigning some desire to be here, after all your suitors were waiting eagerly to meet you.” The taller woman strode towards him, lithe fingers closing around his arm in a vise grip as she led him towards the main hall of the mansion. “Come, let us go then, surely you came here to meet them as well as your family.”

      Jordan looked back at the servants who had been thoroughly cowed and a bitter smile played at his lips as they avoided looking at him. Of course. This situation was familiar, even as he felt a question forming at his lips, the woman glanced down at him, some cold amusement flickering in the gleam of her eyes and the pull of her lips into a secretive smile. “Who--” But before he could finish putting his wandering thoughts into a question, the woman answered it.

      “Lady Galatea, wife to Lord Weaver, and your stepmother as of 4 years ago.”

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try my hand at writing a fic for once-- even though it is oc centric


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